Desert Heat

“I checked the Bronco,” he said. “There’s still a set of keys in the ignition. Are they yours or Andy’s?”

“They must be Andy’s,” Joa

She pulled the heavy key ring from her jacket pocket. It jangled heavily with its collection that included house, work, and car keys as well. Andy had often teased her that her key ring looked like it would have been more at home on a school janitor’s belt rather than in a woman’s purse.

“You say the doors were locked when you got here?”

“Yes. Both of them. Who would do this, Walter?”

“I don’t have any idea, Joa

“I want to help,” Joa

McFadden looked down at her and shook his head. “You already did enough just getting help here as soon as you did. Your job right now is to be there for Andy. Let us handle it, Joa

Joa

“Damned right,” McFadden responded. “You’d better believe it.”

Just then a small, frail voice came wafting through the cool desert air. “Mommmmy,” Je

“Dear God in heaven,” Joa

“It’s Je

“Je

Joa

Joa

With Joa

“What happened?” she demanded. “Is it Daddy? Is he all right?”

Joa

Je

The child gave up trying to escape and sobbed against her mother’s breast. “No. She sent me to bed so she could watch TV, but I saw the lights and snuck out through the window. I didn’t ask her if I could come. I knew she wouldn’t let me. Is Daddy okay? Is he dead?”

Joa

“No, ma’am,” McFadden returned in his soft east Texas drawl. “I don’t know either. You stay here with your mama, and I’ll go back down and see what I can find out.”

Walter McFadden hurried away from them. Je

“What happened?” Je

Joa

When Andy Brady regaled his fascinated daughter with stories about his work life, the bad guys were always “crooks” or “black hats” and the police officers were always “good guys” or “white hats.”

“Maybe,” Joa

“But why would someone shoot my Daddy?” Je

Joa

Walter McFadden returned from his intelligence-gathering mission. Joa

“Is that your dog over yonder in your Mama’s car?”

Je

“See that truck over there, the one there by the sign?” Je

Je

“They’re about to load your daddy into the ambulance,” Walter McFadden said softly. “They’ll be taking him into the hospital in Bisbee for evaluation. From there he may go by helicopter to Tucson.”

“I want to go, too.”

Walter McFadden shook his head firmly. “No,” he said. “Tonight your Mama’s going to have enough to worry about without having to look after you as well. Did I hear you say your grandmother’s back there at the house?”

“Yes. Grandma Lathrop.”

“Good,” McFadden said. “You stay with your grandmother tonight. Believe me, hospitals are no place for little kids in the middle of the night. In the morning, I’ll come get you myself and take you there.”

Je

“That’s right, Je

“But I want to help,” Je

“You heard Sheriff McFadden. Taking Sadie back home will be a big help. She can’t stay here in the car all night.”

Meantime the emergency medical technicians had carried Andrew Brady’s stretcher down the wash to a place where the bank wasn’t quite as steep. The ambulance moved down the road and met them where they emerged from the brush.

Once again Je

“No, Je

Within a matter of seconds the stretcher was loaded into the ambulance and the vehicle pulled away with its siren gearing up to full-pitched howl.

Walter McFadden took Je

Je

“No. She’s not mean.”

“Well, let’s go get her then.”

Together the three of them hurried back to the Eagle where Joa

“I’ll ride here in back with her,” the child a

Joa

“We’d better hurry,” Walter McFadden urged. “Come on.”

Together they made their way to his 4 x 4 which was parked just off the road with its light bar still flashing. Once they reached it, McFadden helped her inside before racing around to open his own door.

“You talked to the medics,” she said quietly as the pickup lurched into reverse and circled back onto the roadway. “What did they say?”